


My Borderline Affection

by sunswalker



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Arguing, Both of them, Cassian Andor Needs a Hug, Drama, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff and Smut, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Luke Skywalker-centric, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Rogue One, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Pre-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Romance, They need a hug, Watch me go, also yes i'm aware that u-wings probably don't have beds on them, bc this ship is seriously underrated, but...i do what i want, canon whom?, creative liberties were taken, hi i'm gonna populate this tag by myself, it's basically from Luke's pov...., whoops?, you damn right i will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunswalker/pseuds/sunswalker
Summary: Luke Skywalker met Cassian Andor six months before a little blue droid changed his life for good. The meeting ended up in a night spent wrapped up in one another, both believing they'd never meet again, only, the force had other plans for them. They reunited on Yavin IV, the day Luke destroyed the Death Star and effectively ended Rogue One's mission. Ever since then, the pair have been glued at the hip whenever they have a spare moment, convincing themselves it's nothing more than casual sex between comrades. It's a happy agreement, one that's shattered when Luke nearly gets himself killed accompanying Cassian on what should have been an easy assignment. One blaster bolt forces both Luke and Cassian to face the reality of their relationship...
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Luke Skywalker
Kudos: 8





	My Borderline Affection

Sitting in the same atmosphere as Cassian Andor’s anger is like facing the blizzards of Hoth alone, the winds cutting at your cheeks with such intensity that they threaten to break the skin. At least, it does from where Luke’s sitting. Even as the heating systems roar in his ears, he has to fight to suppress the shudder that weaves its way through him. Ice sits upon his bones, unaffected by the perpetual warmth that makes up Luke’s very being. He watches as Cassian cleans up the still-smouldering wound on his bicep where the blaster bolt had hit him. 

Two crimson flashes sit behind Luke’s eyelids, one that caused his injury and another that had dropped his assailant to the ground in a lifeless heap. Like so many times before, Luke hadn’t had the time to stop and consider the events unfurling around him, he only had the time to run. Cassian’s contact, a Bothan male with a sour expression, had turned out to be crooked, leaving them blindsided by an Imperial ambush. The Bothan had organised a meeting with Rebel Intelligence some weeks prior, promising valuable intel. Supposedly, he had evidence to back up a rumour circulating about new TIE fighter designs. It should have been simple, land on Lothal, meet with the informant, get the intel and get off-world before being caught. Instead, Cassian had been forced to drag Luke through the backstreets until they were safe enough to board the u-wing once more. Now they're in dead space, hiding from Imperial scanners with the u-wing running on low power. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Luke shifts his focus toward the endless stretch of glittering stars that sit beyond the viewports, trying not to dwell on the failure that hangs over their assignment. Even now, after all these years at war, Luke still grapples with the voices that tell him it’s all his fault. They take the cadences of his childhood bullies and Imperial officers, sometimes they sound like Owen Lars, scolding him for not working hard enough, for never being enough, never doing enough, it’s never enough. 

Darkness colours Cassian’s presence in the force, sending Luke’s mind into a tailspin with its ferocity. He’s gotten to know the captain well enough to know that these foul moods can linger for hours, if not days when left unchecked. Long shadows are cast over the length of their faces. A sharp blackness that carries the tension that simmers between them. The same shadows had cast themselves over Cassian’s skin the night they met on Tatooine, carrying with it an entirely different tension altogether. 

He can’t claim to know what memories lurk in the dark corners of Cassian’s mind, he can’t claim to understand the horrors he’s seen, the atrocities he’s committed at the behest of The Rebellion. Though he does see flashes of them sometimes. He sees them in the way Cassian paces the length of their shared quarters when he thinks Luke has fallen asleep, or when those arms squeeze Luke just a little tighter than usual in the dead of the night, Cassian’s body as taut as a bowstring against the curve of Luke’s spine. If Luke squints hard enough, he can see the monsters that lurk in Cassian’s shadow, and the urge to protect him rises. His bottled concern sits at the back of his throat like bile, acidic and foul, turned as sour as milk in the midday heat. 

“I know there’s something wrong,” Luke says at last, tone hushed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, nothing’s wrong.” Cassian shakes his head, tearing open the bacta patch wrapping with his teeth. “Why would there be something wrong? Today’s been _great_.”

Luke’s brows knit together, opening his mouth to say something, only to hiss when the patch is pressed against his injured skin with a harsh sort of finality. Luke recoils away from Cassian’s touch and yanks his shirt sleeve down over his elbow again. Luke watches Cassian pack away the medkit and shove it back under the seats before getting to his feet and dusting off his knees. Luke musters the energy to glower up at the captain, bright eyes darkening with his frustration. Somewhere in the crevices of his mind, those voices make themselves known. _He’s not your lover, why should he share his thoughts with you? You’re nothing more than a good fuck to him._ Shoving the voices aside, Luke levels with Cassian by standing up, still holding his injured arm. 

“There’s no need to act like that.”

“I’m not acting like anything, Skyboy,” Cassian says as he turns on his heel, keying something into the comms computer, “You’re in pain. Overthinking. You should get some rest—”

“—No!” Luke moves, blocking Cassian’s path to the cockpit. “That _banthashit_ might work with the recruits, but not with me. I know something’s bothering you. So, _talk_ , tell me what’s wrong.”

A mirthless smile appears on Cassian’s face. “Is this an interrogation?” 

“No, I just want you to talk to me, you always do… this.” Luke gestures at him helplessly.

“Do what?” Cassian asks. 

“Don’t play stupid.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing is bothering me. Just drop it, Luke.”

Gentle fingers clasp around Cassian’s forearm, and Luke’s shaking his head, looking up into Cassian’s face. Defiance sits in the lines that make up the captain’s expression, drawing his brows together in a deep frown, pinching his lips together in a thin line; Luke can’t recall ever seeing his jaw clenched so tightly. Still, Luke persists, squinting up at Cassian through tousled hair.

“You’re lying.”

Luke’s accusation seems to cut through the air, seems to render Cassian speechless. A knot twists in his stomach, not out of fear of Cassian’s anger, he knows he’d never turn it on him like that. It’s not even fear that brings about the knot, it’s something else, something he can’t name nor put a finger on the pulse of. Maybe it’s anticipation. Maybe it’s a flight or fight response in the face of coming conflict. 

“I lie for a living, to everybody, it’s my job.” He points his chin in Luke’s direction, “Why should you be any different?”

A thousand different reasons pile upon his tongue, but Luke keeps his mouth snapped shut as he searches Cassian’s expression for a sliver of something, _anything_ , that makes it safe for him to voice them. His heart pounds, rattling incessantly in his ribcage, making so much noise that he fears Cassian will hear it and see all his weaknesses.

“Because I care about you. That’s why,” Luke says, swallowing his trepidation, “And because right now, we’re not _working_ , you’re not _working_ . We’re floating in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, Cassian, it’s the furthest thing from _working_!”

“Just drop it, Luke.” He tries to push past him, to the pilot’s seat.

“No.” He presses a palm against Cassian’s chest. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Luke, seriously, drop it.”

“No! Stop trying to push me away!”

“Luke—”

“—Speak to me, damn you!” Luke scowls, “I’m not going anywhere until you do.”

Cassian’s nostrils flare, his chest heaving as he takes a step back from Luke, nodding slowly as if to admire the determination swelling in the younger rebel’s chest. There’s still something cold there, something Luke wishes he could banish to the dark nothingness that dwells beyond the walls of the ship.

“ _You_ ,” Cassian breathes at last, “You’re what’s wrong with me.” 

“I’m sorry, _what_?” 

“You! You’re my problem. I spent all of today worrying about you and then we got ambushed—”

“—You’re blaming that on me?” Luke stomps towards Cassian. “You should have double-checked who your contact was, that’s not on _me_ , that’s on _you_!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Cassian grips Luke’s shoulders, grappling with the urge to shake the younger man and make him listen. “You got shot because of me! Had their aim been any higher you would have died! I would have lost you!”

Luke’s expression softens. Cassian relaxes his grip on his shoulders. The captain drops his head, letting it hang there in the space between them. Tears blur Luke’s vision as he stands, motionless. When, since his departure from Tatooine, since destroying the Death Star, had anybody cared to worry about his well being aloud? Or has he been too busy rushing from one daring feat to the next to notice that Cassian has been the one worrying for him? Given his current position, Luke is forced to admit to himself that his days have been blurring together in a haze of assignments, briefings and starfights. Those days becoming weeks, becoming months, becoming years.

Cassian’s warm palms settle against his cheeks and draw him back to the present, away from his realisation. He blinks and the tears are falling along the curves of his cheeks and dripping from his jaw and his chin. The pads of Cassian’s thumbs cut the tears off at the source, and Luke sways towards him as if hanging on the edge of a string, drawn in by his gravitas, as he has been all along. Cassian’s moustache scratches at the skin of his forehead as he presses his lips there, holding Luke like glass. There’s a fine balance between coddling and caring, somehow, _somehow,_ Cassian manages to uphold it to perfection, knowing just when Luke needs him. 

“I got shot protecting you,” Luke says, curling both hands into Cassian’s jacket, refusing to let it go, “I _chose_ to do that, you didn’t _cause_ that.”

“You could still be dead,” Cassian mutters, “And I’d rip this galaxy apart to find the bastard that did it.”

“Cass—”

Cassian shushes him by slotting their lips together, tugging at Luke’s hair, drawing a whine from the back of his throat. Their bodies come so close together that the heat of Cassian’s skin can be felt even under all the layers he’s wearing. Luke finds himself swiping his tongue over Cassian’s lower lip as he pushes his hands under the shoulders of his jacket to remove it. He groans when he manages to get Cassian’s mouth open, their tongues brushing together as their hips do.

There’s a distant thud against the floor as Cassian’s jacket lands in a heap behind them. Luke lifts his hips, rolling them against Cassian’s, desire rising in his chest and blood rushing towards his groin. Their lips part and Cassian seems fascinated by the way Luke’s chest heaves as his hands wander beneath his shirt, blunt nails raking over the pale skin they find. A gasp erupts from Luke’s throat when fingers pinch at his nipple, causing his body to rock forwards into Cassian’s.

“Tell me what you want, sunshine,” Cassian says it against Luke’s neck, carving poetry into his skin with his teeth, squeezing Luke’s hips. He lowers his voice, accent curling around his words in a way he knows Luke enjoys, “Tell me.”

The irony of the request isn’t lost on Luke as he digs his fingers into the flesh of Cassian’s shoulders, letting out a strangled moan as their hips collide. He can hear his own words echoed in Cassian’s voice. A dizzying need for Cassian to be closer, even closer than he is, with his sweaty breath wafting over his neck, floods Luke’s veins. 

“You,” Luke replies, at last, hands sliding down Cassian’s chest, tugging at his belt, untucking his shirt with trembling fingers. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Right here?”

“Stars help me, _yes_ , Cassian, right here.”

A chuckle rumbles through Cassian’s chest as he tugs at Luke’s hair to give himself more room to lavish his throat in kisses, receiving Luke’s stuttered praise in response. Luke’s wandering hands slip beneath the fabric of Cassian’s shirt, fingertips grazing over the raised lines of his scars. Cassian pulls away to tug his shirt off, wasting little time in ridding Luke of his as well.

“You’re beautiful,” Luke says, cradling Cassian’s jaw in his hands, leaning upon the balls of his feet to steal a kiss from his lips, sweet and slow like trickling honey.

Both their hands move towards each other’s belts at the same time, their faces breaking out into grins when their knuckles and fingers bump, breathless laughter seeping into the air. Cassian moves Luke’s hands out of the way, a silent ‘ _let me handle this_ ’ evident in the way he maintains eye contact with him, brushing their noses together. Wherever Cassian leans, Luke follows with utter devotion, charmed by Cassian’s gentle direction. Soon enough they both find themselves undressed, unbothered by the chill in the air, as it has been replaced by the vehemence of their desire.

Cassian cradles the back of Luke’s head, crushing their lips together in a mess of tongues and teeth. Cassian’s cock twitches when the heated skin of Luke’s hip brushes against it. He hisses at the unexpectedness of it and Luke’s grin is almost wicked as he pulls away to wrap worn fingers around his shaft. The luminous blue of his eyes almost glows when he drags the movement out, moving up and down at a laborious pace.

Luke swipes the pad of his thumb over the velvety head of Cassian’s cock, smearing the precum that’s gathered there, only to drag it along the length of him. Cassian’s lips part in silent bliss, brows knitting together as he knocks his forehead against Luke’s, his eyes rolling back into his skull. Their faces are so close together that their lips brush, so close that Luke can flick his tongue against the underside of Cassian’s upper lip, catching his moans and gasps. Their bodies sway in tandem as if they are blades of grass caught on a summer’s breeze. Pushing himself up onto the balls of his feet again, Luke shifts his hips, their cocks rubbing together.

Cassian’s palms run along the small of Luke’s back as they groan into each other’s mouths, his fingers digging into the flesh of Luke’s behind to drag him closer. It’s a game of call and response they play, Luke squeezes the base of Cassian’s shaft and Cassian sinks his fingers into the cleft in Luke’s ass, teasing at his entrance and making him whine.

“ _Please_ tell me you have lube on board,” Luke rasps out, both arms winding back around Cassian’s shoulders.

“I do,” Cassian nips at the spot between Luke’s jaw and neck, before kissing his lips with languid ease, “Turn around, face the wall for me, sunshine.”

Luke does, folding his arms against the durasteel, fluttering his lashes at his lover as he leans his cheek against his arms. The air where Cassian once stood now feels cold. The sudden chill, paired with anticipation, causes hairs on the back of Luke’s neck to stand on end. Watching as Cassian withdraws a bottle from the depths of his knapsack, a smile stretches over Luke’s face, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Don’t take _too_ long, Captain,” He drawls, wriggling his hips, “It’s getting lonely over here.”

Cassian hisses a foreign curse through his teeth and before Luke can open his mouth again, Cassian’s chest is flush against his back. The suddenness of it has Luke gasping, his hips gyrating backwards against Cassian’s arousal. More foreign curses colour the air as Cassian’s teeth and lips leave bruises blooming in their wake. A hand wraps about Luke’s throat, holding him completely still while Cassian lets his hard length sit against Luke’s behind, leaking and pulsing. 

“Do you see what you do to me?” His lips are against his ear now, “Can you feel that?” 

Luke manages to nod, his thoughts reeling too fast for him to voice them. He pushes back against Cassian, a low whimper coming up from somewhere in his chest. It’s embarrassingly desperate, so much so that his cheeks burn, an unmistakable heat that winds its way under his skin until it coils in the very lowest part of his abdomen.

“Use your words, sunshine,” The distinct ‘ _pop_ ’ of the bottle being opened can be heard behind Cassian’s voice, “Tell me what you want.” 

“Your fingers,” Luke says before swallowing, licking his lips, “I want your fingers in me…”

A low squelching sound can be heard as Cassian warms the lube between his fingers, before peppering kisses over Luke’s shoulders, his free hand abandoning his throat to hold his hips still. Luke moans, the volume of it muffled by the way he tucks his mouth against his forearms when Cassian eases his middle finger between the ring of muscle. It’s hardly the first time they’ve done this, but still, Cassian insists on sinking into him knuckle by knuckle, acting as though they have all the time the galaxy could offer. His finger crooks in a beckoning motion and Luke throws his head back, the sound he makes drawn somewhere between a gasp and a groan.

“There?” Cassian repeats the action, and Luke almost melts against the wall. Cassian chuckles, “There.”

Luke hums in affirmation, nodding against his forearms with his head turned to watch the other man ease him open. He could very well lose himself in the thick haze of these sensations Cassian brings about below his hips, he could drown here, sink into the stars that swirl outside these walls and never return. Cassian adds a second finger and Luke’s resulting cry pierces the air, his back dipping in an almost perfect arch.

Cassian’s war-worn palm skitters along that arch whispered words of praise tumbling freely from between his lips. He seems entirely enamoured with the way Luke rocks back into his hand, with the chorus of disparate sounds that fill the space around them. Moments pass, swimming by like hours, and Luke forgets everything but how he is stretched and caressed by hands he knows to be covered in blood. Hands he loves despite all that. 

“ _Cassian_ ,” Luke says his name and basks in the affection that swells from Cassian’s being. “You feel good, so good.”

“Yeah?” Cassian catches the corner of Luke’s mouth with a kiss, curling his fingers into a spot that drives Luke upwards on his toes, “Think you’re ready for me?” 

Luke gives him an enthusiastic nod and for a second time, Cassian shushes his reply with a kiss. The bottle popping open again can be heard above the static in his head, and Luke’s gaze wanders, indulging in the sight that is Cassian touching himself. _Force, he wants him, more than he can articulate with words._ He burrows his face into his forearms, muffling a desperate cry as Cassian’s cock pushes against where he needs him most.

“Easy, sunshine.” Cassian’s lips are at his ear again, “Relax for me.”

Cassian’s palm runs along his ribcage, stopping at his hip, before repeating the action over and over while he presses into him. Luke’s head tips back, soundless pleasure caught in his throat, where his Adam’s apple bobs with each intake of air. It’s like every move Cassian makes steals the breath from his lungs. Cassian’s lips press against the freckles he finds on Luke’s shoulders and back, and Luke recalls their night on Tatooine when he was nothing more than a farm boy. Cassian’s voice fills his head, telling Luke that he must be destined for the stars, how could he not be? They live in his skin, in his eyes, in the gold of his hair. The memory warms Luke’s heart and forces him to relax against Cassian’s hold. 

A guttural cry rips free from Luke when Cassian has him filled to the hilt. Against his back, Luke can feel Cassian tensing, refraining from moving the way he wants to. It’s sweet, the way he always gives Luke the time he needs to adjust to the size of him, but Luke doesn’t want sweet. He wants all of Cassian, all the harshness, all the passion, he wants as much of him as he can take. 

“Cass.” Luke shifts his hips, “Cass, you can move... _please_ move.” 

“But—” 

“—I need you, _please_ , don’t make me wait for it,” Luke says, fixing Cassian with a wide-eyed expression. 

“Fuck, sunshine.” Cassian crushes their lips together, “You’re unfair. How am I meant to say no to you?” 

While he speaks, Cassian snaps his hips, delighting in the resulting gasp from Luke, who grins into their kiss, blond hair dampened and curling upward with sweat. Repeating the motion garners the same reaction, accompanied by praise and the chanting of Cassian’s name. 

Against the skin of Luke’s neck, Cassian’s approval manifests in terms of endearment, in the uttering of praise in a language Luke suspects is his mother tongue. He keeps meaning to ask him about his homeworld, keeps meaning to ask him about Festian culture but it’s as if Cassian always knows when the subject may arise, and steers them away from it. Sometimes Luke wonders if Cassian has some degree of force sensitivity. 

The thought is knocked from him when Cassian’s hand wraps around the base of his cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Luke mewls, rolling his hips between the two sources of friction, overwhelmed by the sensation of it being wherever he tries to turn. Being trapped in this way is liberation, a release of tension that Luke often finds himself craving in the wee hours of the morning. 

Every sound produced is lewd, reverberating around the ship, around Luke’s skull, shaking free all those memories that concern these stolen moments he and Cassian share. They’ve always been best at speaking with their bodies. 

Luke rocks his hips back up against Cassian’s steady rhythm, cursing into the flesh of his forearm when Cassian abandons stroking his cock to hook Luke’s thigh under his palm. He tucks Luke’s thigh against his abdomen, allowing himself to sink further into Luke with every thrust. Their mutual pleasure goes up an octave, rendering every thought in Luke’s head mute. Everything dies, save for the u-wing, the silent galaxy outside its walls and Cassian’s hot breath fanning against Luke’s shoulder blades. 

Cassian’s eyes roll backwards underneath fluttering lashes as his hips take on a punishing pace, one that has Luke all but howling with delight. Luke watches Cassian manage to open his eyes, catching Luke’s admiring stare.

Instead of the cool dispassion that Cassian had offered earlier, Luke can see something else bubbling under the surface, something his guarded heart does not dare to name. Not yet. Maybe in time, somewhere beyond this bloodshed they face, when Luke has claimed his destiny as a Jedi, then he can put a name to the emotion that swims behind Cassian’s eyes. 

A thin layer of sweat gives Luke an inhuman glow, making him seem ethereal under the artificial lighting of the u-wing. Pillowy lips are parted, bruised and enticing. Cassian nudges their cheeks together and Luke swears he can feel his lover’s heart stuttering in his chest when he turns his head to kiss the side of Cassian’s face. Affection has always come with expectations for Cassian, who has had to use both his mind and his body as a weapon against the Empire. Such exploits are either hidden under the word classified or aren’t on any official Alliance records at all. The scant few details Luke does know break his heart, so he offers Cassian everything freely and without hesitation. 

Within those threads of the force that bind them together, Luke can sense an instinctive desire to protect festering in the back of Cassian’s throat. He hadn’t known it then but he had sensed the same thing on Tatooine, it’s why he’d decided to trust him. He heard it in Cassian’s voice as he warned Luke about opening himself so easily to people. Despite those warnings, Luke still threw himself at Cassian with the same mindless enthusiasm he offers now on that street in Anchorhead. He had kissed him brazenly for all to see. Cassian mirrors the act, locking their lips together as he rocks up into Luke, who tilts his head, moaning feebly into Cassian’s mouth.

Cassian allows both arms to wind around Luke’s stomach, coarse palms exploring the expanse of skin they land on, the pads of his fingers pressing against the muscle and soft flesh they find. A low cry rips free from Luke as Cassian’s rhythm becomes more erratic, and one of his hands wraps around his cock again, smearing precum without any sort of control or care. 

Luke thrusts into the captain’s hand, the friction of the closed fist proving too much for him when paired with the way Cassian’s hips snap against him. Luke’s orgasm washes over him with a shuddering intensity, his chest heaving in deep, sharp breaths as he lets himself fall over the precipice with a shout of ecstasy. 

Blinking through the fog of bliss, Luke begins to remember where he is: floating in the middle of nowhere, confined to the monotone walls of Cassian’s u-wing. Somewhere to his right, lights wink at him from the control panel and the comms computer. He finds himself acutely aware of the dizzying pressure being applied inside him and he muffles a whine against the skin of his forearm. He turns baby blues backwards to watch Cassian’s face, tipped back and in full view. A knot forms between Cassian’s eyebrows and Luke knows that his lover is close. Luke urges him along with whispered words of praise, eyelashes fluttering from under sweat-darkened hair that curls at the ends as that pleasant ache settles below his hips. 

Their lips collide again and Luke hums his approval, smiling when Cassian drags his tongue over his lower lip as if to commit the shape of it to memory. Rolling his hips on Cassian’s cock, Luke swears, babbling around the beginnings of sentences that don’t make sense. Cassian’s lips form around words that won’t come when his climax finally crashes over him, his fingers digging into the flesh of Luke’s hips as the chord that’s been tightening in his belly snaps.

They remain conjoined at the hip while they recollect their breath in easy silence. Against his back, Luke can feel Cassian’s chest heaving. It’s Cassian’s arms that guide Luke upright as he pulls out of him, leaving him empty and satisfied all at once. A shiver crawls along Luke’s spine as he turns in his lover’s grasp, nuzzling into his collarbone and winding his arms around his middle. Cassian’s steady fingers rake through Luke’s hair before his arms tighten around his shoulders. 

“Let’s get you warmed up, skyboy,” Cassian hums into Luke’s hair, before pulling away and rubbing his palms over Luke’s biceps. “You’re shaking.” 

“S’not because m’cold but I’m not gonna stop you,” Luke says, smiling up at him. 

To Luke’s delight, Cassian’s head tips back and he laughs. An honest, genuine thing that rings about the walls of the ship, filling it with the memories of a night spent in the throes of passion on Tatooine. They'd spent all night tangled up in bedsheets, mapping out every inch of each other's skin, every freckle and every scar. Luke, warmed not only by the body wrapped around him but also the memory of that night, sighs in content. Cassian walks Luke to the rear of the ship, where he knocks a button with a careless elbow and his bed hisses into view, emerging out of the wall like an oversized drawer. 

Cassian moves away from Luke’s side with a kiss to the crown of his head, bare feet padding against the durasteel floor and before he can blink, Luke’s having clothes thrown at him. 

“We’re sharing nightwear now?” Luke asks, lifting the loose items of clothing in hand. 

“We’re sharing nightwear,” Cassian affirms, chuckling as he tugs a pair of baggy trousers on, "Unless you'd rather freeze in the cold vacuum of space?" 

Luke doesn't comment after that.

Once dressed, the pair tumble wordlessly into bed. Cassian positions himself nearer to the door as he always does, his body cocooning around Luke's, his nose burrowed into golden strands of hair. The younger of the two slots between Cassian's arms, his fingers curling into the soft cotton of the captain's shirt. In the quiet moment before sleep takes him, Luke reflects, beginning to see the small moments of Cassian's affection playing out on the insides of his eyelids like old holovids. He recalls the way he'd stepped between Luke and a mean-faced smuggler looking to start trouble on Nevarro a few months ago, hand on the blaster he wore on his hip. Or the way he'd squeeze Luke in his arms whenever he came back to Home One after a long assignment. With his last moments of consciousness, Luke leans up to kiss the underside of Cassian's jaw, earning himself a hand through his hair and a kiss to his temple. 

******

Instead of a warm body pressed against him, Luke finds nothing but cold sheets. He sits up, tousled hair falling into his face as he squints ahead of him, not surprised to see Cassian silhouetted against the endless blue of hyperspace, occupying the pilot's seat as he stretches upward to flick a switch. For a while, Luke just watches him, an easy smile crossing his face. Something unnamed curls in the pit of his stomach, something eerily similar to what he'd seen in Cassian's eyes earlier. It shouldn't terrify him, this unnamed warmth, but how could it not? Everyone he's ever associated with it is dead. When he closes his eyes at night, the flames that had eaten away at the Lars Homestead still crackle in his ears, Biggs' empty comms channel still hums and his heart still stops whenever he thinks of Ben Kenobi sacrificing himself so that hope could live on. 

Luke chooses that moment to stand and make his way through the u-wing, smiling when he sees that Cassian has folded his clothes and left them on a seat for him. He still elects to wrap himself in Cassian's leather jacket, preferring the way it buries him in the smell of coffee beans and engine oil. Without a word, Luke slips into Cassian's lap, beaming at him as he pulls the headset away and discards it on the control panel with a clatter. 

"Hi, gunslinger." 

"Hey, skyboy," Cassian says in reply, smiling and nosing the line of Luke's jaw.

Luke's taken to running fingers through Cassian's hair, expression thoughtful as he takes in his partner's expression. His Aunt Beru had once told him that his eyes were living galaxies, bright and clear, full of hope. He can't help but think the same about Cassian's, so warm and deep and glittering with constellations he wants to map out forever, and in them, he sees a stubborn sort of hope. A hope that won't die, no matter how many times he's knocked down. Luke's palms frame Cassian's face, before dipping down to kiss him. 

"About earlier," Luke says, looking down at his thighs, "I didn't mean to get so angry—" 

"—You don't need to do that." Cassian brushes his knuckles along Luke's jaw before cradling the side of his neck, "You didn't do anything wrong, I should have just been honest with you. I'm sorry I wasn't. Am I forgiven?"

"Of course you're forgiven," Luke huffs, "You stupid bantha." 

"Hey! That's you, I'm the stubborn bantha, remember?" 

"You're kinda proving my point here, Cass," Luke tells him, grinning. 

They share a laugh, knocking their foreheads together letting their happiness bleed into the air. The war is far from over, galaxy-wide peace is still out of reach, Luke's journey to becoming a Jedi is far from complete, but none of that seems to matter here. Not when Cassian's arms are wrapped around him, and mindless conversation fills the space. It's only when they approach the co-ordinates for Home One that they finally detangle from each other's embrace and redress, preparing to face the boring task of filling a mission report and explaining the assignment's failure. The Rebellion must take priority after this brief interlude. It's something to strive for, if Luke gets to spend his life after the war wrapped in Cassian's arms, then he'll fight for as long as he needs to.

Cassian guides the u-wing into the hangar and Luke looks over at him from the co-pilot's seat. Sitting in the same atmosphere as Cassian Andor's happiness is like facing the warmth of a Nabooian summer, the breeze caressing your skin and the sun spreading warmth throughout your entire soul, at least, it does from where Luke's sitting. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hello, I'm here to populate the Cassian/Luke tag because I've fallen in love with this ship and I'm making it my mission to make the fandom suffer with me! It's been...a long time since I've published any type of fanfic anywhere, so I might be a lil rusty, apologies for that.  
> The basic plot for this (and their relationship and how they meet) has been plotted between me and a dear friend of mine for a long time now and this is one-hundred per cent dedicated to them...you know who you are and I love you.💕💕💕💕  
> I might follow this up with more if people want it, let me know? I'm always happy to explore their characters and their relationship, it provides one with plenty of serotonin.  
> Content Warning: ....smut....shameless smut...that's it, y'all....  
> The title is taken from 'Beautiful Apocalypse' by Kamelot.  
> Please enjoy! And remember that kudos, comments&feedback make a writer very happy!


End file.
